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“Yes, she’s here,” I hear him say. “We’ll see you in an hour.”
“See who?” I pause in the doorway, and then I’m knocked backward by a huge, gray, ratty-haired bomb of affection.
“Dog, get down,” he snarls, as I’m propelled onto the bed, falling in love for the second time in my life.
“I swear to fuck, Dog,” he says, sounding exasperated, trying to push her off me with his foot, but the animal neatly swerves out of the way every time. “She’s not usually this wired.”
“She’s not wired, she’s gorgeous,” I say, cooing as Dog pokes her nose into my hand for more attention, which I’m only too happy to give.
“You’re in the minority. She hates everyone else. She tried to bite Sam.”
“I bet he deserved it. Well done, Dog,” I tell her, giving her extra praise and love for that. “How long have you had her?”
“A week. We interrupted an illegal dog trade—”
“You mean yousavedher?”
His eyes narrow at my tone. “I’m not the fucking hero here, Ella. I shot three men in the head before I left.”
“At least the good intention was there.” His phone beeps again. “Who keeps messaging you this early?”
“Your father.” He lifts his head to gauge my reaction.
“My father…?” I trail off when I see the look on his face. It’s like he just set fire to the room and he’s waiting to see if I’ve noticed.
That’s when the earthquake hits.
This air of finality isn’t his or ours.It’s mine.It’s for a war that began on my eighteenth birthday with a chess set and an agreement.
“No.” I whisper, his betrayal cutting me to the bone. “Not this… Not after everything. You, of all people, know how much my job and freedom mean to me.”
“It’s too dangerous for you in New York,” he grits out. “Especially with your treatment.”
“This is my life!”
“Youaremy life.”
“Why aren’t you fighting for me?”
“Take a breath, get some fucking perspective, and then maybe you’ll see that I am.”
“When?”
I spit my next word at him because it’s all he deserves. I’m too shocked to cry. Too angry to fight back. He swore to protect me, and now he’s done the one thing his own enemy threatened me with last night.
He’s taken everything away.
“I called him a couple of hours ago.” I watch his jaw clench, but I don’t want to see his pain. I only want to feel the bitemarks of mine. “He was already in Miami. His jet lands in twenty minutes. He’s taking you back to the island today.”
He waits for the explosion, but it never comes.
Instead, I tip Dog off my lap, rise to my feet, and reach for my clothes.
There’s only one thing left to do when your heart’s been broken, your lifeline has been severed, and all your dreams have been smashed into pieces.
You get the hell out of there and find a way to plot your comeback.
30
